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TATE
“Are you ready?” I called through Wren’s open door. “Driver’s waiting.”
“Did you clean the pool shed?” she called back from her room.
“Not yet.”
“Well then I’m not ready either.”
“The pool shed and our flight aren’t mutually exclusive.” I wandered down the hall to her room and leaned against the door frame. She had her suitcase open on her bed and clothes strewn all over the floor.
“You won’t even tell me what we’re doing or where we’re going.” She blew out a breath, grabbed a pair of boots and shoved them in the case before closing the top.
“It’s a surprise,” I told her.
Wren growled, “I don’t like surprises,” and sat on the case to close it properly. It was overflowing and the zip wouldn’t shut.
“Everyone likes surprises. Move.” I pushed off the door, walked over to her bed, and dragged her off the case so I could close it for her.
“Those people are masochists. Thank you.” She smiled. “I’m ready now, which is more than I can say for the pool shed. You’re not holding up your end of the bet, Tate.”
“You’ll forgive me when we get where we’re going.” I dragged the case off her bed and wheeled it down the hall. She followed.
I’d received a phone call the day after Rachel left from Giovanni’s assistant saying he needed us in Italy by the end of the week. They rushed the contracts over for us to sign and Steve arranged everything else. Flights. Accommodation. Transfer of Wren’s art. It was all taken care of. Secretly.
It had been hard to keep it from Wren, particularly when I was sneaking her art pieces out of the house and storage in the basement to be shipped to the studio in Florence for the photoshoot, but somehow I managed to pull it off.
“You know the way to win my forgiveness is through pizza. I doubt we’re going to Joe’s with this much luggage.”
“Good thing where we’re going makes the best pizza in the world,” I said before turning to face her as she locked the pool house. “Got your passport?”
“Yes.”
And then she gasped, and I could see the cogs in her brain turning as she put two and two together. “Passport. Best pizza. Giovanni Russo’s photoshoot. Oh my gosh, Tate. Are we going where I think we’re going?”
I smiled. “Told you you’d forgive me.”
Wren squealed in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Berlin and see the Eiffel Tower!” she announced and threw her arms around me.
I choked back a laugh. Was she serious? She was confusing Paris with Berlin. “Umm, Wren...”
“And hey, do you think we could check out the red-light district and maybe go to one of those coffee shops while we’re there?” She winked.
And apparently Amsterdam too.
“Babe, we’re not going to Berlin. And those coffee shops are in Amsterdam, not Paris where the Eiffel Tower is. Please tell me you know where pizza comes from?”
“Gotcha.” She laughed and elbowed me in the ribs as we walked back down the side of the house to the front where our driver was waiting. “Do you seriously think I’m that stupid? I know we’re going to Switzerland, famous for pizza and scissors.”
“Chocolate and army knives. Some watches too. Not pizza and scissors,” I groaned.
“Have you ever been to Switzerland?” she countered.
“No.”
“Then how do you know they’re not masters of the pizza and scissors?”
“Get in the damn car.”
She grinned at me and then climbed into the back of the car ready for the airport.
...
It wasn’t until we were on the plane preparing for takeoff that I noticed Wren was being unusually quiet. Taking a sideways glance at her, I noticed she was chewing on her nails and bouncing her legs up and down.
“Excited?”
“No. Yes. No.” She shook her head, unsure of the right answer.
She fidgeted her seat, pulled the seatbelt tighter around her waist. “Wren?”
“Shut up.” Her eyes widened as the plane rolled back and made its way to the runway. I was sure her teeth were about to pierce her bottom lip if she bit down any harder.
“You okay?”
“Did I ever tell you I’ve never flown before?” she screeched and grabbed my arm as the plane taxied down the runway, increasing speed.
She failed to mention that she’d never been in a plane before. You’d think that would have been the first thing she told me when I booked our tickets.
Her breath was coming hard and fast. Jesus, she was hyperventilating and I didn’t have the first clue how to stop her. “You know, statistically you’re safer in the air than on the ground in a car,” I offered helpfully.
The plane wheels lifted off the ground, and her nails dug into the back of my hand, almost drawing blood as she squeezed the life out of me, muttering, “We’re all going to die,” over and over.
If she kept going, she would freak out the other passengers. “Relax.” I rubbed my thumb over her skin, trying to calm her down, but it only served to make her panic more.
“Don’t tell me to relax. I can’t relax,” she hissed.
The mechanical whir of the wheels retracting into the plane made her freeze. Her eyes wide, darted around the plane and she gasped, “Oh my gosh, we’re going to die.”
She was going into hysterics and the people beside us were giving her strange looks. She was drawing too much attention. I had to calm her down. Withdrawing my hand from her death grip, she shot me a glare so full of hatred I almost laughed. Instead, I did the first thing that came to mind. I grabbed her face and pressed my mouth to hers mid-sentence.
“I’m too young to di—”
Her lips were frozen, her body stiff.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Not even a blink.
Gently stroking my thumbs across her cheeks, I whispered against her lips, “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Her palms came to rest on my chest and her lashes fluttered closed. A small shaky breath and her lips met mine again. Soft at first, tentative, as though she was testing them out. The scent of strawberries and coconut surrounded me. It was all her.
The plane dipped slightly and the wings shook in the wind. Turbulence. It was mild and nothing to worry about, but Wren groaned and suddenly her hands were in my hair and her mouth was needy against mine. My tongue traced her bottom lip and a soft moan sounded in the back of her throat. She parted her lips for me, and I wasted no time sweeping in and claiming her mouth.
Devouring her.
Exploring every inch.
Savoring her taste.
The plane reached peak altitude and the turbulence faded into a smooth flight.
Wren’s fingers released my hair and she broke the kiss.
Fuck.
I never planned to kiss her, but now that I had, I wanted to do it again.
She opened her eyes and looked alarmed as she jerked back from me. With a punch in my chest she snapped, “What the heavens was that?”
I chuckled and rubbed my fist over the spot she hit to ease the ache. “That was you.”
“Me? You kissed me. Took advantage of my weakened state and molested my mouth with your tongue.”
I choked back another laugh. “Took your mind off the flight though, didn’t I?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re welcome.” I smirked at her.
“I’m not thanking you,” she scoffed and sat back in her seat, facing the window.
I smiled and looked down at our joined hands. She hadn’t even realized she’d slipped her hand into mine again.
I knew one thing.
I’d kiss her again before the end of this trip.